  Boozy Old Showgirls I promised Jon Jordan I would be better about Christmas this year, so I could hardly decline when he invited me to the Hairspray Christmas party at the Supper Club.
The night before I'd gone with my friend Allen to a sort-of work-related (for him) Christmas/birthday party at the home of his very English boss.
She's lovely and I enjoy her, but the party was deadly-dull, with only champagne to drink, and Allen (a former chorus boy himself), our friend Mike (with whom I did summer stock many years ago and who now works for this very insurance firm), and I were pressed into leading carols. That being an obviously vodka-fueled activity was grating to perform on just the pressings of the Widow Cliquot, but I tried to be a good sport. So I wasn't yet ready for another party. The Supper Club, though, is a groovy space. Many years ago, when it was the Edison Theatre, my high school sweetheart who'd moved to New York before me, performed there in Oh!
Calcutta. Another old and dear friend and mentor from the place where I'd grown up, was an usher there, so I used to hang out in the building pretty often. It's been restored to it's Deco ballroom grandeur and I always enjoy parties there. I knew enough people, so I sat in a booth on the side of the dancefloor and chatted, ate, drank. Other than wanting to be with Jon and Joe, I didn't have much interest in being there, but I'm glad I was if for this one moment: watching my sweet friend dance with the partner-in-life he waited so long to find.
It wasn't a particularly tender song, Ain't No Mountain High Enough, but they were out on that dancefloor holding hands and laughing and singing to each other. Together. I couldn't want anything more for Jon. Yeah, okay, I cried a little...so what? It's the least jealous I've ever been. The incomparable dragoon Paprika Swirl (our friend Alex) was hosting an after party/birthday party for our friend Jonny at Dorothy's (the tragic little bar where I subbed during Thanksgiving) and tried to drag me off, but I had to stop off at Arriba! Arriba!
and have a birthday cocktail with my friend Brent after his show. On the way there, realizing I couldn't walk in empty handed, I bought about $20 of Scratch And Win lottery tickets and shoved them in a birthday card. Kids Love 'Em! Even 44 year olds. The drink with Brent and John (and Russ and Michael and Michael's hot boyfriend whose name I can't recall) was low-key and really nice. Two married couples and Russ and me. Yeah. And Russ was just drunk enough to think hitting on me was a good idea. Yeah. But I did get an invitation to spend New Year's Eve with Brent and John at their house for a low-key party.
They've promised a rousing game of Celebrity, which will pretty much guarantee my attendance. Of course, John still thinks I'm getting an invitation to the Shaiman-Wittman's which, while cool, won't be nearly as meaningful as spending that time with good friends. Brent and John don't buy it. It's the same reaction I got the year I went to the Tony Awards instead of watching it at their house: Radio City was cool, but I would've had a better time with them.
I hate to think where this puts me as a social climber, but I'll just have to live with the consequences. Also, Zev is scheduled to appear on New Year's. A loooooooong time flirtation. Jewish. South African. Doctor. Hot. So, after drinks with the boys, I thought I might just have some drinks with the boys.
I hadn't figured out that open bar + birthday drinks - substantial food intake = Boozy Charlie Raining like hell, so I hopped in a cab for the ten block trip to Dorothy's where Jon and Joe and everyone were still knockin' 'em back. Ah, Dorothy's...still no running water, or heat, or ice machine. There was now a cd player so that Alex and Ginger could do a mini drag show, however the speaker blew and the queens were sniffy about performing to the music of a jukebox (really, what's the diff?
), so that party started to fizzle and Jon and Joe and I went off for a Fat Bitch Breakfast at the Renaissance. This was just like old times. Jon and I at the diner at 1am. Now there was Joe...even better. And my reward for coming out in the rain to parties about which I was apathetic? Well, Sunday night was also the closing night of the revival of "Nine" and after their party, a couple of the revelers were still hungry and so into the Renaissance twirled....Chita Rivera! She and Jon have worked together a couple of times, most notably doing "Anything Goes" at Paper Mill. So she came over to say hello and sat with us for a bit. Breakfast with Chita. How lovely is that? 
